


go the fuck to sleep

by geckohorns



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Kinda Good Guy Schlatt, Quackity tries to help but gets called a bitch: the oneshot, Sleep Deprivation, hyrbid!jschlatt, hyrbid!quackity, hyrbid!tubbo, short because my attention span is that of a squirrel's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckohorns/pseuds/geckohorns
Summary: when tubbo tips quackity that schlatt is acting off, he goes to investigate
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Quackity & Tubbo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	go the fuck to sleep

Quackity smiled. He was proud of himself! Why you may ask? He'd fulfilled all duties as Vice for the day which was a big first. His legs crossed up on his empty work desk, he scrolled through his phone, curious at what the other members of the SMP were up to these days now that there was new administration in Manburg. He got to a post of Sapnap posing with one of Fundy's fox's when he heard his door creak open. Quackity scrambled to attention, kicking off a bird shaped paperweight in the panic.  
"Yessir?" He called out weakly, fixing his 'LAFD' beanie. Quackity's static posture quickly faded as he saw the small horns of Tubbo peak by the doorframe. Then came in the child's face, hazel eyes wide.  
"Tubbs? The hell are you doing here?" The feathers on his back flattened. Tubbo pushed the door even more, "It's about Schlatt."  
"Isn't it always."  
"He's not...himself."  
Quackity blinked, "What'dya mean by that?"  
"I don't really know," Tubbo brought his hands together. "He hasn't yelled at me yet today. Hasn't given me any work either. I was gonna go visit him but...y'know...don't wanna poke a bear with a stick."  
The older teen quirked brow upwards, walking away from his desk.  
"Oh so I can go get mauled by his horns? That's okay?"  
Tubbo nodded with a wide smile, floppy ears at his side twitching in a nervous habit. Quackity rolled his eyes, groaning as he pushed the fellow hybrid out of the way.  
"Let me go take a look at the patient then."  
Chuckling, Tubbo leading the way with noisy hooves against the glossy floor.  
The walk was short lived, the duo stopped outside the presidential office. The double doors were comically large, lined with solid gold and painted over with a similar gloss used on the floor below them. On the top of the double doors perched a giant ram skull made of crying obsidian, bright purple dribbling down from its eyes, mouth and horns.  
"The guy really overdoes it god DAMN." Quackity joked lightly, drawing a laugh out of Tubbo. The duck hybrid looked back at said boy, pointing his thumb down the hallway to the right.  
"You should scram. If I get my lung punctured by this fucker I'll send you a text."  
"Got your back Big Q." Tubbo sent a wave his way before speeding away, small coattails flapping behind him.  
Quackity wasted no time and opened the door once Tubbo was out of sight, "Mister President sir?"  
A snort and a flurry of papers came from inside, Quackity coming in just in time to see his elegant boss rip the side of his face off the table with the most ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look he’d ever seen the man pull off. He would have laughed if he knew it wouldn’t cost him his job.  
“What the f-...Quackity?” Jschlatt rubbed his eyes, yawning softly at the end of his question. Quackity used his heel to close the doors behind him. He took it upon himself to walk up to the president’s desk.  
“What’s up big guy?”  
“Fucking...what the hell do you want now twink?” The ram snarled as he straightened in his leather rolly chair, pushing outward from the desk. Quackity sweat a bit seeing at how Jschlatt now towered over him, the older now standing a foot away from him. He had to question himself if this man really knew what personal space was. Though, now that he was looking closer at Schlatt, he could finally tell why Tubbo was so concerned. Schlatt’s ears were drooping, his curled horns were obviously uncleaned, and his hair, to put it nicely, was a ratsnest. Even his beloved facial chops were growing a little too far for Schlatt’s usual liking.  
Quackity’s lips straightened, quietly wondering if it was a mistake to come in here when his boss was clearly vulnerable. Schlatt, ever the non-patient, grunted and kicked the tip of Quackity’s shoe.  
“I asked you a question douchebag.”  
...Even his demeanor was off. Usually he’d be under the threat of Schlatt’s newly sharpened horns or a stomp to the nether regions but now it was just a kick to the foot with all the force of a toddler that didn’t get their way. The duck sighed.  
“Rumor is that you’re dying, old man.”  
If Schlatt was drinking water he’d surely have done a spitake. His ears raised and his face crunched in confusion, “Since fuckin’ when?”  
Quackity smiled, chuckling briefly, “Since like, yesterday probably? Dude, you look like shit. Literally a walking corpse.”  
The ram, however, didn’t find the situation as humorous. He turned around and threw his hands up, pacing over to the other side of the room. Quackity kept his undying laughter under wraps, wings curling over his arms.  
“It isn’t anyone’s business how I look! I can look like a crackwhore if I want to! I’m the fucking president!”  
“ _Cálmate, cálmate_ ” Quackity closed the distance between them, hand gestures matching his lighthearted plea for his boss to wind down. Jschlatt shook his head, passing Quackity to drop back into his chair, tips of his ears turning a deep red.  
“Don’t tell me to ‘cálmate’.” He snarled, head dipping down while he put his arms across the wide desk. Quackity wore a concerned smile as he watched the nation’s president slowly melt, chin dropping down onto the hard wood with an audible ‘thunk’.  
“Oh c’mon now.” The duck laughed. He stared down at Schlatt, waiting for the usual bite back when he realized he wasn’t going to get one. His smile dropped.  
Out of Schlatt came a heavy snore. He was...asleep.  
A laugh was ripped out of Quackity, the humor of the situation hitting him at full force. He nearly doubled down when Schlatt was shocked out of his minute nap, a mirror of how the duck had found him earlier.  
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Jschlatt growled, hand wiping down his cheek as the dreariness tried to suck him back into unconsciousness. Quackity caught his breath, coughing into his fist as the shrieking laughter came to a close.  
“Duuuude, when was the last time you actually slept? You just fucking fell asleep on me mid-conversation!”  
Schlatt blinked owlishly, the bags under his eyes now more clear, “...I did?”  
Oh how it was hell that Quackity couldn’t let himself fall to the floor laughing. The vice president patted his boss’s shoulder, “In all seriousness, I think it’s time you get to bed old man.”  
“If you value your kidney you’ll stop calling me old.” The ram’s tone held barely any malice. That was new. And...slightly concerning if Quackity did so say himself.  
“I can help you over to the couch,” He jerked his head to the unused leather couch that donned a thin throw blanket. “I really think it’s in your best interest that you catch a couple of z’s.”  
Jschlatt, in his sleepy demeanor, nearly agreed when the situation actually began to turn the cogs in his head. He glared at Quackity’s hand on his shoulder, instantly slapping it away, “I don’t need you to mother me you weird fucking duck.”  
The teen rolled his eyes, taking it upon himself to lift Schlatt out of the chair by his arm. His boss kicked his legs a few times in dissatisfaction before slumping, the fact that he’s next to useless in such a state finally donning on him.  
“Can you walk or do I need to carry your fat ass?”  
“I’m not the one with the fat ass.”  
Quackity rolled his eyes again, scoffing as he began to drag the taller man to the other side of the room. With a moan and a growl, Schlatt began to work with him, moving his legs as he was led over to the couch. Unceremoniously, he threw the ram onto the couch with a hearty laugh.  
He didn’t miss the sleepy smile that Schlatt gave back.


End file.
